But I Don't
by LiberatedPen
Summary: The fight that led to the final breakup of Mark and Maureen. Set, of course, about a month before that fateful Christmas Eve...


-1My respects to Mr. Larson, who created this world and owns the people. Much thanks for letting me borrow them for a while to play in mine.

**But I Don't**

"_Talk_ to me. That's all I'm asking you. Talk to me. Instead of running out the door, pretending you've got rehearsals or meetings or whatever the hell other excuse. _Talk_ to me." Mark said quietly, blocking the door. He'd let her walk out too many times. He'd let her off the hook even more times than that.

Maureen looked him up and down, sizing him up, then put her purse back onto the cluttered coffee table.

"They're not excuses." She said feebly.

"Bullshit." Mark replied, still standing in front of the door, his arms crossed.

"Mark-"

"Bullshit. Cut the crap, Maureen. I've known you way too long to believe it." There was a pause while Mark considered what he'd just said. "I've known you way too long to believe it anymore." He corrected himself.

"I have places to be." Maureen said, picking her purse up once more.

"Where? With who?" Mark asked, needing to know but flinching at the thought of the answer.

"None of your business." Maureen snapped, taking a few steps towards the door. Mark surprised her by standing firm.

"Why can't I go with you?" He asked. No response. "When will you be back?"

"What is this, Mark? A fucking inquisition? You're not my father, you're not my keeper so back off with all the questions, ok? I'm a grown woman and I _do not_ need to answer to you!" Maureen said, reaching around Mark to open the door, but he pulled her hand into his instead.

"Maureen, I just don't want to be left in the dark. Ok? Why can't you tell me these things? It only makes it look like… like you're hiding something." He waited for her to tell him that he was being silly, that it was all in his mind, but she didn't. She looked into his hurting eyes, her jaw clenching and releasing unconsciously.

"I don't have to tell you what I do, Mark." She said eventually.

"You're hurting me." Mark admitted, and Maureen looked away from him. "Why is it ok for you to hurt me? Why is it ok for you to do that when I can't even be mad at you half of the time?" Pause. Maureen tried to pull her hand away but Mark held fast to it. "No. Answer me. Why is that ok? Answer me. _Answer me_." Another brief pause and Maureen yanked herself from his grip.

"Leave me alone."

"Maureen-"

"I don't tell you because I don't want to hurt you, Mark!" Maureen spat suddenly, stopping Mark in his pursuit of her.

"You do that by _not_ telling me." He said quietly. Maureen laughed sadly.

"You have no idea." She said, turning to face him. "You don't even know."

"So tell me."

"I can't."

"You can."

"It'll hurt." She warned him.

"I don't care." Not knowing was worse.

"You will."

"I won't. Tell me. Please?" He nearly begged.

"I met someone. I'm… seeing someone." She said, and Mark swallowed hard.

"Who?"

"I won't answer that." Maureen said, and Mark knew that this time he wouldn't get it out of her.

"Does he know about… me? About _us_?" He tried to stop his stomach from churning. He thought he'd be sick.

"No."

"Why would you do this to me?" Mark asked, clenching his jaw as hard as he could, hoping that all his teeth would shatter so that he could think of something other than what Maureen had just told him.

"I don't know."

"Why would you DO THIS TO ME!" Mark was suddenly shouting, clutching his stomach, his breath coming in great heaving gasps.

"Don't. Please don't. Don't yell at me." Maureen whispered. "You wanted to know." Pause. "You already knew." She stared down at her feet.

"Go ahead. Justify it." Mark spat, humiliated and lost and realizing that what she said was true.

"Mark-" Maureen began. "I'm sorry. It's over."

"No. No." He went to her, cupping her face in his trembling hands. "Don't say that. It's ok. We'll be ok. Please. Stop seeing him and stay with me. I love you. Maureen, please tell me that you still want to be with me."

"I don't want to be with you." Maureen removed his hands from her face and started for the door. "I'm sorry, Mark."

Anger and pain shot through Mark and he asked, "What's his name? I deserve to know his name." Maureen paused at the door. "_What's his name_?" Mark repeated.

"Joanne." She said, barely more than a whisper. A broken sob escaped his lips. Joanne.

"Maureen…" Mark began, and she lowered her head. "I love you." She turned back to him.

"I wish I could tell you I love you, but I don't." Maureen told him lamely. They stood facing each other for a few moments, each frozen in the truth of what she'd just said.

"I wish I could tell you I hate you, but _I _don't." Mark replied, tears welling up in his eyes. Without another word he turned and walked into their bedroom, clicking the door softly closed behind him.

Maureen walked out the door.

Mark told himself that it didn't matter.

He was lying to himself, and he knew it.


End file.
